@3The North Wind storms my rugged front, The ivy scales my southern wall; I never knew the crashing brunt Of musketry or cannon-ball. When armies met in battle-shock, When smoke of navies rolled afar, Men made me strong on living rock; I frowned with guns awaiting war; Awaiting war that never came, A virgin fortress still I stand; But now, unscathed by hostile flame, I guard a gate of Fairyland. For, while my gloomy watch I stood, Unmarked the leafy marvel grew; Behind me spread the mystic wood -- A place of dreams where dreams are true; Where low winds move the tasseled fir, Where lilacs breathe, where brown bees hum, Where old men tell of days that were, Where lovers talk of days to come; Where boyish cohorts, undismayed, Deploy beneath the friendly trees To take my cliffs by escalade. May all their wars be such as these!@1 | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ODES I, 5 by QUINTUS HORATIUS FLACCUS AT THE CEDARS by DUNCAN CAMPBELL SCOTT MANNERLY MARGERY, MILK AND ALE by JOHN SKELTON MEDITATION by CHARLES BAUDELAIRE ASOLANDO: THE CARDINAL AND THE DOG by ROBERT BROWNING SPRING FANTASIES: 5. ROAD SONG by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON |